Returning to Royale
by Pandora's Angel
Summary: When Jack returns to visit Port Royale what will the outcome be?


Disclaimer: I do not officially own any thing or any part of Pirates of the Caribbean. (Yes I know-sad. T_T)  
  
Chapter One  
"God Jack do you have to drink so loud?" Complained Elizabeth, trying to act as civil as possible. * Burp * "Everyone needs their rum though love." * Burp * Jack replied gulping down his sixth shot. "Well at least drink less." Will advised, clearly annoying with Jack as well, who was lying on the couch singing sea ditties. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me-." He sang, slurring his words and burping. "Yo ho, yo ho-." He repeated drunkly, swinging the bottle of rum around. "That's enough Jack, leave!" Commanded Elizabeth sternly, standing up from her place on the couch, pointing an angry finger at the door." Coaxing her in a soothing voice Will said, "Elizabeth, Elizabeth.calm down, he's Jack, remember? JACK." Dropping the rum bottle on the floor Jack wearily stated, "That's Captain Jack Sparrow--." Collapsing on the sofa, snoring heavily. "Typical." Elizabeth commented disgustedly, sitting down again beside the fireplace. "Let him Elizabeth, he's a pirate, and will always be a pirate at heart no matter what happens." Kissing her gently he continued in his suave voice, "And get some rest dear, no one likes it in here when you're cranky." Sighing Elizabeth replied tiredly, "Yes, your right Will, I should get some rest." Picking herself off of the couch she walked drowsily towards the door and turned around, "And what is this about my being cranky?" She smiled slightly. Humored, Will stopped writing and smiled a crooked smile at her, "Good night Elizabeth." He pretended to imitate her father, in his stern mood. Both of them laughed and Elizabeth closed the door quietly, as not to arouse Jack from his slumber, and walked down the corridor, towards the room in which she shared with Will. Changing into her night garments, she snuffed out the candle next to her bed, and relaxed into a comfortable slumber.  
After Will had finished his paperwork he walked into the bedroom, and while changing gazed at Elizabeth adoringly. "What an angel." He thought gently to himself, immediately his hard cover was melted and a smile appeared. "My angel, a worldly treasure, worthy of god himself." Buttoning the last button on his nightshirt, he walked over to the bed and lied down in it carefully. Stifling a yawn, as to not disturb Elizabeth, he gradually fell asleep.  
The next morning Jack awoke on the floor, the rum bottle a few feet away form his head. "No doubt the rum's doing, but a man must have his rum." Jack thought cheerfully. "Now to see what's for breakfast." He said to himself aloud. Standing up dizzily, he finally made it down the stairs and into the dining room. Seating himself at the head of the table, a maid in with a platter of eggs and sausage. "Mmmm...sausages..better yet...rum sausages!" Tasting the sausages, and testing them with his fork, Jack spit them out. "No rum this time, just pork." Gulping down the milk besides him he spit that out as well. "No rum either." He glared at the innocent glass. "Anne!" He called out the maid who had served him. "Put some rum in these." He ordered obnoxiously, handing her his plate while searching the horizon. For a ship, a pirate ship, the Black Pearl." Shaking his eyes he still kept his eyes focused on the windows, and made a lifting gesture to Anne. Undoubtedly insulted, Anne grabbed the plate and stomped back into the kitchen. After a few minutes, Anne had not emerged from the kitchen, Jack decided to go get the rum-laced sausages himself. Getting up from the table, he pushed open the door leading into the kitchen, which was filling with steam and heavenly smells. Finding his way through the smoke he walked over to the stove, where the cook, Eileen, was frying more sausages. "Umm.Eileen can I have my sausages?" He offered politely making pointing fingers to the pan, trying to imitate a his-day-Colin-Farrell. "No." Replied Eileen stubbornly. "Oh please, just give me the damn rum sausage-." Jack pleaded, cut off by a sharp slap from Eileen. "Act like a man in my kitchen or you will get no sausages at all!" She said roughly, returning back to work, in her heavy Irish accent. "But men swear, well at least fishers-." Another slap landed on Jack's cheek. Head twisted around half- way, he rolled his eyes and said quietly, "I'm not too sure I deserved that." Twisting his head back in it's correct position, Jack decided to leave the kitchen before he was in that pan, instead of the sausages. 


End file.
